He is also a very keen angler, having come back to the sport in 1995 following a break of several years. In this regular column he will tell us about his progress as an angler – his thoughts about the sport, what he learns, the fishing trips he makes, the anguish, the humour, in fact everything he experiences as his angling career develops. | ||||
ONE OUT OF THREE AIN’T BAD! With the clock ticking away, I decided to spend the last few days of the river season in pursuit of barbel. This is the time of the year when they are at their heaviest. The thought of all those summer 9’s now into double figures provoked me into the decision to focus the remaining sessions of the season on catching a nice barbel…or two…or three! Well, there’s nothing wrong with a bit of day dreaming, is there? As we all want to go out with a blaze of glory rather than a damp squib, the end of the season is not the time to be pioneering new waters. Favourite stretches – indeed favourite swims – are the order of the day. I’ve done enough experimenting with waters, tactics and bait the other thirty-nine weeks of the season! The odds are definitely stacked in favour of the fish at the best of times. Now is the time to reduce those odds somewhat in favour of the angler, ie, yours truly!
Dove bound and another double So, with all of that in mind I fished the first session on the River Dove in Derbyshire. It was a nice day, one to which the term ‘spring-like’ could definitely be applied. Combine that with a nice looking river and the fact that time was running out for the angler, I expected to see more people than a Zimbabwe polling station! Instead, on the whole of the stretch, there was just one pleasure angler who only stayed a couple of hours, and one other barbel angler, who roamed the far bank. Fishing by mid-afternoon, the day slowly wore on and darkness began to descend all around. It actually got quite chilly as the sun set, and soon my tackle lying on the ground was coated with a layer of frost that gave everything a starched-like feel to it. Zipping my all-in-one suit right to the top, pulling my fleece hat right down over my ears and burying my hands deep into my pockets, I positioned myself on the chair so that the strong winds had as little impact on my body as possible. Just as I began to dream about warm fires, piping hot chocolate and being tucked up in bed with the quilt around my ears, I had a bite! I was on the rod quicker than Graham Marsden responds to the offer of a free drink. Well, Okay, maybe not THAT quick, but you get my point! As I struck I could feel a decent lump at the end of the line but it didn’t power off in the expected manner. Instead it came rather tamely towards my net, giving what appeared to be nothing more than a token struggle.
As it lay on the unhooking mat, it was clear that it would break the magical 10lb barrier that all barbel anglers like to pass from time to time (and particularly in the last week of the season!). Setting the scales and lifting the fish off the ground, this was confirmed as the readout showed a very satisfactory (for me!) 10lb 11oz. A few photographs later and in the next peg I’m ‘nursing’ the fish until it’s ready to swim back into the main river. I’ve mentioned this before, but there is no harm in repetition. Due to the fact that barbel give totally of themselves during the fight, it’s imperative to ensure that the fish is fully recovered before releasing it back into the main flow of the river. All it takes is to gently hold the fish in the margins until you feel the strength coming back. Don’t let the fish go too soon, but don’t worry, it will let you know when it’s ready! This post-landing care is very important. Otherwise if the fish is released too soon it may belly up and float down the river. Now for Edward Elgar country I carried on fishing until after 10.00 p.m. but had no more bites. Still I was a happy man and driven on by the experience of the Dove double, I was already planning the details of my next trip. I didn’t have too long to wait, as the next day saw me driving in the opposite direction to the Dove, as I made my way south into Edward Elgar country. Still after barbel, I was heading for the lower Severn ‘below Worcester’ as it flowed through the south Worcestershire countryside where the famous composer was born.
This part of the Severn, even more so than the rest of the river, can either ‘make your day’ or ‘break your heart’. On this occasion, after staring at my stationary rod tips for almost eight hours, it was sadly a case of the latter rather than the former. Okay, in simple angling terms, I blanked! Still, it’s that anticipatory sense of knowing that at any moment the rod could bend over double, indicating a big fish has taken the bait, that drives us on as barbel anglers. I also happen to know of a few anglers who fished the lower Severn that exact night and also blanked, so I was in good company! And back again Driven by my desire to end the season with a good barbel, I decided to spend the last day again on the lower Severn. I was in two minds about going for chub elsewhere, as the conditions were really more suited to that species, but the lure of a nice barbel persuaded me otherwise. So, loading my car with barbel gear for the last time until June, I once again set off on the southbound carriageway of the M5.
With a biting east wind, and the banks now deserted of anglers, I too decided to call it a day some time before midnight, which I had originally intended to fish up till. Still, to paraphrase Mr Meatloaf, I was reasonably contented with my last week on the rivers, so it was a case of ‘One out of three ain’t bad’. Although in a perfect world I would have caught a double on every session. Still, June is not that far away really, is it? So that’s the end of my river season. Well, at least until June 16 anyway! To tell you the truth I’m missing the rivers already, but that won’t stop me from fishing, of course. I’ll tell you what my plans are next Thursday when Pilgrim’s Progress is entitled ‘Staying open during the close season’. Until then, tight lines. The Reverend Stewart R Bloor Pilgrim’s Progress – read it every Thursday! |
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